Yesterday we sold our home. We thought it was our last home, the one where we would grow old together. It was a great little house nestled in the woods. I have gathered great memories there. The house where our grandchildren came to visit. Everywhere I see faded visions of my life; my life with goats started and ended there, also my chickens and bunnies. The final resting place of my wonderful dog Sid and my darling Libby. But now we are once again packed up and starting again to find our forever home. It makes me think back to our very first move. Right out of high school, recently married , and Vic joining the Air Force. Funny everything we really owned fit in the back seat and trunk of our car as we headed out to San Antonio, Texas. Vic had gone through basic training and was now going through his tech school there. We were young and now expecting our first child.

We found a cute little furnished cottage to settle into. To me it was more of a playhouse. We had very little and even less money. I spent my days embroidering on a baby quilt, and trying to figure out what to make for supper every night. We lived there for 8 months.

Then, it was on to Tucson, AZ. We had most of our few things shipped on ahead to the base so once again we packed up the little car and pulled a tiny U-Haul carrying a small white cradle for our son Chris who now filled our back seat. We spent 3-4 days crossing Texas and New Mexico before we crossed the state line into Arizona. I do remember it being around 3 o’clock in the morning and I turned on the radio and the first song I heard was “We Got Spurs That Jingle Jangle Jingle”. I knew then we weren’t in Ga but in the west. It was hot, and rocky with very few trees. Even the mountains were just great big rocks to me. The girl from Georgia was dealing with culture shock.

Finding a place to live was hard. We had to give up our room on base after so many days and finally found an apartment close-by. I remember sitting next to a little bush, I had placed the baby quilt under it and lay Chris on it so he would have some shade while we waited for our apartment to be ready. I remember Vic coming out of the Manager’s office with a pale look on his face. “They took it all”, he said. What do you mean they took it all? “They took all the money, first and last month rent and a security deposit. Now I was pale because I knew it was a week before Vic got paid again and we still needed diapers, formula and groceries. I panicked, I went to the nearest pay phone (this is 1981) and called my mom at work, think goodness she had a toll-free number. She told us she would wire us money to our checking account and it should be in the bank tomorrow.

You know it was those early years and being so far from family where we really learned to depend on each other. It made us strong, yes I did call my mom for that emergency. But, that was what it was, an emergency, and that is when parents should help. I think one of the best gifts that parents can give their children is not give them everything they want but, be there when there is a need.

We lived there for 14 months then, on to another move. I will write more on that next time.

Five little pumpkins sitting on a gate.
The first one said, “Oh my it’s getting late.”
The second one said.”There are witches in the air.”
The third one said, “But I don’t care.”
The fourth one said, “I’m ready for some fun.”
The fifth one said,”Let’s run and run and run.”
“Woooooo” went the wind and out went the lights.
And 5 little pumpkins rolled out of sight.

I have no idea who wrote this little poem. It has been around forever. I remember learning it back in kindergarten at the First Baptist Church in my home town when I was 5. I remember how excited we would all get when we got to the woooo part and clapped our hands “out went the lights” we would scream and giggle while trying to get out the last verse, then beg to to it again.

I loved Halloween. The first holiday to start things off. Back when stores put out the seasonal items at the appropriate time. Going to the Dixie Dime, looking at the store costumes with the old plastic masks with the rubber band attached. Which would get tangled up in my hair and would have to be cut out at the end of the night. Mom would always have to make the eyes bigger and the nose holes larger so we could breathe.

Most of the time my grandmother or my mom would make my costume. I once had a homemade bunny suit complete with standing ears. Once I was the great pumpkin (my mom really did a good job on that one.) Speaking of the Great Pumpkin, the cartoon specials back then when they were called cartoons, they were special, because you had to wait all year for them to come on.

There were no DVDs or no YouTube to watch over and over. You had one chance and if you missed it, arrrgggg you would have to wait a whole year to see it again. I would sit as close as I could to the television in my little red rocking chair till my granddad would pull me back. “Your ruin your eyes sitting that close.”, he’d say. I don’t know why he was so concerned about my eyes when his big leather chair was just as close but, his chair never moved.

My grandmother would make fudge while I rocked away. Then CBS would announce a “this is a special presentation” followed by that classic “Peanuts” music……..It was magic.

Trick or treat was different too. I feel sad for today’s children and their assembly line way of trick or treat. Everything is pre-packaged. Mothers hanging over them, asking those passing out the treats if it’s sugar, gluten, and dairy free. Nowadays there’s even a time to start, a time when you must finish, different color pumpkins meaning different things and “this is a scare free zone.” Really? It’s Halloween.

One of my favorite Halloween nights was with my cousin Tammy and her cousins. I must have been in the 4th or 5th grade. I can’t remember what my costume was but I’ll never forget Greg Hogan dressed like a woman. We called him Gertrude the whole night. If I remember it was warm that night and Gertrude went mostly barefoot. His older sister, Debbie, and younger sister Melissa made up the rest of our group. No parents, just us and a night of adventure ahead of us.

We walked all over the small town of Eton going from house to house. Walking down dark roads telling ghost stories and trying to scare each other. Knocking on doors yelling “Trick or Treat” and filling our bags (no plastic pumpkins for us) with no small “fun size” candy back then. You got full sizes and they were bigger. The best part of the night was going to some of the older ladies homes where they would hand out slices of fudge cake and you would sit on the porch, eat the cake and drink it all down with a glass of milk. They would ask “who do you belong to?” and we would tell them and they would say, “Oooo, I remember your parents coming here on Halloween night.” Then there were the homes with popcorn balls, caramel apples, homemade cookies, and fudge. By the end of the night we felt like Templeton the rat at the fair from the book “Charlotte’s Web”.

We would finally call it a night as we watched some of the porch lights turn off for the night. You could still see the glowing eyes of pumpkins and the candle inside of them slowly melting down as we were dragging our treasure of candy back to the house. It was a great night and one memory I hope will stay with me forever.

26 feet is the length of the camper we are currently living in. Most of my life has been spent moving, no we are not gypsies but close. For 22 years my husband served in the Air Force. When we married, right out of high school, I thought he would do the 4 years and I’d stay home, go to school, and we’d settle down in my hometown. That was not written in the stars for me. So now, 20 moves later, we are in a camper looking for our “last” home. As we followed the “connect the dots” in our lives we have ended up here in Columbia, SC, temporarily in a campground. Like when we lived in Florida, we are not on vacation full time. Even the campground we are in isn’t a vacation resort. There is no swimming pool, no walking trails, or no group gatherings around a campfire at night roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories. No this campground is a modern version of “Grapes of Wrath”. Workers are here for long term jobs, snow birds coming and going from north to south. I do see a few lifers, you can tell by the redwood decks they have added to their campers, little fences around them to keep their yapping dogs in and hanging baskets of ferns. The Campers come in all shapes and sizes. Some are really nice and large with their slide out rooms, their flip down grills on the outside and even flat screen TV’s so they can sit out in style. Other campers are small, and serve the purpose of a place to sleep when the day is over. Our temporary home is somewhere in the middle. Vic’s job has made us relocate here, so while he is at work I am “camper wife”. This is another reason why I started a blog, another way I can have a little conversation with others while we wait the finalization of sale of our North Carolina home. The little camper is quaint but serves us well thanks to some dear friends who loaned it to us and we are so grateful for that. We didn’t want to rent something and get stuck in a year lease and the thought of packing one more time made my stomach sour. I try to keep on a lose schedule to help pass the time. I get up, make our little bed up, take 8 steps to the bathroom, passing through the kitchen/ living area. I get dressed because by then my two wiener dogs are waiting at the door for their morning walk. Yes, you are required to have at least one yapping dog if you are camping. I grab the much needed poop bag because I’m a responsible dog owner and you never know who might be watching if you don’t. We get back, I make a little breakfast. Vic leaves very early for work and I usually sleep in; I have a hard time sleeping at night. I get on the computer and check in on FB, watch TV and keep my day busy with Find a Word and Words with Friends. I watch the daily goings of the campsite. I watch campers come in and I watch campers go out. I watch others walk their dogs and wonder what brings them here, thinking there are most certainly some stories here to add to my collection.

I guess it’s time we get better acquainted. I grew up in a small town near the mountains at the base of the Appalachian trail. I lived in the same house with my grandparents for 18 wonderful years. I grew up during the 60’s and 70’s and to me these were the last years of growing up with values, respect and good work ethics. I graduated from high school and quickly married my high school boyfriend. Vic was already enlisted in the Air Force and what I thought would be a quick 4 years then back home, ended up being 22 years of adventure. During those 22 years our family grew with the help of two boys and now 4 grandchildren. The stories I want to share with you are chapters of my life and how they impacted me. Some are humorous, some will bring tears, but they are stories of life. They will not be in any order of a time line but told as if sitting with your grandmother as she spilled out stories when she thinks of them. I hope these stories will touch your heart and bring back fond memories of your own and will give you the desire to share them with your loved ones.